We were deep in the cellars of Malfoy manor. I never liked in down here, it was dark dank, and to be honest I always found it a bit eerie. But for this particular training the setting seemed right. I looked at the young man in front of me an almost mirror image of myself. Pale hair, immaculate skin, silver colored eyes. He was sixteen now and would soon start his sixth year at Hogwarts. But first there was some special schooling he needed to receive at home. "Are you ready?" I asked him. He looked as scared as I was for him. His entire body trembled slightly, though I could see he was trying to suppress the shivers, as well as the look of terror on his face. He wordlessly gave me a slight nod, unable to meet my eyes. I had to take a deep breath before moving on. "All right, then."

"Crucio!" The boy let out a scream unlike any I had heard before. He dropped to his knees before rolling on his back. His entire body writhing in agony. He was naked from the waste up, and his feet were bare. I could see every muscle in his torso tensing, his veins bulging against his skin. I was almost certain the spell would not work. The very idea of causing this much pain to my own child sickened me, but I knew it was necessary in the long run. I forced Myself to hold out a little longer before quickly ending the curse. His body fell limp on the floor. Were it not for his heavy breathing I would have feared him dead. He made no other movement. I kneeled down beside him, touching his face. "Scorpius?" I asked fearfully, still not quite sure he would respond. When he didn't I called again, more urgently. "Scorpius!" H rolled he head toward me and opened his beautiful eyes. "Yes, Father." His voice was weak. I cradled him in my arms. Not bothering to ask if he was all right, I stroked his hair back. "Just rest a moment. Deep breaths." I could almost not remember why I thought this was a good idea. What kind of monster uses the torture curse on his own child. But then I remembered my sixth year how the threat of my families death forced me into a mission I was never expected to accomplish.

I remembered the many times the "Dark Lord" had used this horrible curse on me bad my parent, as either punishment or amusement. Suffering was power and it was a power I would not soon give another over me and my family again. Not EVER again. I patted Scorpius a bit more, trying to soothe him. "Better?" He nods. I help him to his feet. "Ready, then?" He nods, but I noticed he's trembling even more than before. Whether it's from pain, or fear, or possibly even hatred of me I do not know. That thought alone almost makes me end this. But if I am not strong, I cannot expect him to be. "Crucio!". He cries sound more strangled than before. He tries not to collapse again, but the pain proves to much. He curls up in a balls on the floor, convulsing violently. The scene brakes my heart, and rips my soul, and I am unable to allow it to continue. I release him and rush to his side. "Scorpius!" The pick him up into a tight hug, thankful that he cannot see my tears. I rubbed his back, it was covered in sweat. I ran my fingers through his hair. It was so soft, I realized. He stopped shaking after I bit and settled down. "It's okay." I whispered into his ear. "It's okay." I rocked back and forth with him, just like I did when his was a child. His breath was even and for a moment I thought he was asleep.

"I-I can... t-try a-gain... F-father." I kissed him on his forehead. "No. That's enough for today. You did well, son." I thought back to when my idea for this kind of training first came about. I think it was after my father's release from Azkiban that it started. For the first few weeks he was so... different. Still suffering from the effects of the Dementors. Latter on after numerous tortures and humiliations at the hands of the dark lord, I began secretly searching for a a way do deflect the effects of the unforgivable. After all "Saint Potter" deflected at least one, so it's obviously possible. Unfortunately my research was fruitless. There was no magical way to defend ones self from these curses. One night Lord Voldimort thought it would be funny to use the Imperious Curse on me and have me torture my own mother. I was about to do it. I had my wand pointed at her and I could see the look of horror in her eyes. I was trying so hard to fight it, but Voldimort's will was strong. Then at the last moment before I could say "Crucio!" I managed to point the wand down at my own foot. The pain released me. But it did not stop. Five wizards, including Aunt Bellatrix tortured me for my insubordination. But I'd found my answer. The curses could in fact be deflected. It wasn't until after the war that I began my practice. I began meeting with Blaise, him being the only one I could trust tin this matter. When I first told him my plan he thought I was mad. Maybe I was.

It took a few weeks to convince him of the plan's validity, and another month to convince him to help me put it into action. We met every day and ever day he would cast various curses jinxes and hexes on me. My job was to try and negate their effects using pure force of will. I even surrendered my wand to remove the temptation. In time I would under go these sessions in minimal clothing, removing as much outside protection as possible. Those were the worse months of my life. At best I would think to just end the training, at worst I would think of ending my life. Oddly enough it was Blaise that convinced me to continue. He was my rock, as corny as that sounds. He kept me stable. And thankfully it paid off. By the middle of the third month the Imperious Curse had almost not effect on me. By the end of the third month the Crusiotus could be resisted. It was a power that could not be found in a wand or a spell, and it was a power that I now possessed and would pass on to my son. I looked back down at Scorpius, still resting comfortably against my chest. I stroked a stand of white away from his face. He truly was beautiful. Most people said he looked like me, and I suppose he did. He had my face, my hair, his mother's eyes though. But to me his beauty was beyond physical. It was... beyond anything I could explain.

I swore to myself a long time ago I would not make the same mistakes my father did. My son would know I loved him. Not because he was a Slytherin, not because he was a "proper" Malfoy, and certainly not because he was a Deatheater; but because he was mine. Before he was born I often questioned whether I was even capable of being a good father. Hell, that might have been the ONE thing Weasley was more capable of than me. But once Scorpius was born all my doubt disappeared. I knew that no matter what this child would be treasured, in a way I'd never been. From the time I first held him I fell in love. My marriage to his mother had been arranged, of course. We got along well enough, but were by no means in love with each other. But from the time I held my son I knew what love was. Having finally been given someone to share that emotion with. I picked Scorpius up off the called floor, certain he was asleep now, and carried him in my arms. I headed with him upstairs back to the house and to his room. Sure I could apperate there, but why cut short, my time with him. I thought back to when he was a small child. It was so tempting to shower him with all the world, but remembering my earlier promises to him and to myself, I did not. My love for him would not be shown in possessions. He never wanted for anything, but he was not spoiled either. The learned early to earn what he had. Just as I did after the near collapse of the Malfoy empire.

I notice I also was more affectionate with Scorpius than my father ever was with me. I was not ashamed to hold him, to hug him, to kiss him good bye or before putting him to bed. To hell with being a "proper Malfoy" being a proper father was more important. Finally making it to his room I placed Scorpius down on the bed. I was struck again, as I was often am, by his awesome beauty. I watched his chest rise and fall as he breather softly. I allowed myself a caress of his cheek before kissing his forehead. As I got up to leave I felt his gently take hold of my wrist. "Father?" he called softly. I turned and kneeled beside him. "Yes, Scorpius?" I patted his soft hair a moment waiting for him to speak. "Don't leave yet." His voice was so low I almost didn't hear. It was the same one he used when he was little, and came into my room after having some nightmare. My father would snap at me for my cowardice and send me back to bed at time like that. But never did that to Scorpius. I always aloud him a place in the bed beside me, and hold him close. Protecting him from what dream had frightened him. I sat in the chair beside his bed and watched him sleep, thanking whatever God was listening for sending me my first and only true love.